


The Soldier, The God, The Furyan and the Shadowcat

by thebeastinsideusall



Series: Bucky Barnes Fics [12]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: Avengers could be in for it, Barnes is captivated, Danger, Dark Riddick, Death, F/M, Heavy Themes, Loki has a plan, Monster - Freeform, No idea where I'm going, Posessive Riddick, Slight D/s relationship, What's going on, dark bucky, monster bucky, posessive Bucky, sorry but avengers would die
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-07-27 14:32:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7622329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebeastinsideusall/pseuds/thebeastinsideusall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Where do we find her?" </p><p>"You don't..." </p><p>"Then how do we take her out."  </p><p>"You put a price on her head and wait for her to come to you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> No idea where this is going. I'm a big Riddick fan but the fan base is lacking in my opinion. I hope my fellow Riddick/Vin Diesle fans find this! thanks for reading!!!

Gathered around a long table, the black wood shining in the soft fluorescent light. A thin folder in the middle. Opened. Three pictures and a few reports were the entirety of the file. 

Thick dark hair, curling in its frizz, braided tight. Held together with a strip of leather. Cargo pants, black, a few pockets. Boots, heavy, worn, silent. Black tank top, hugs muscle sinew and curves. Pale skin, fluorescent almost. As if never seen a day of sunlight. 

Fuzzy images. Barely there pictures in the photos. But there's so much red. It's easy to see why their team was asked to take on this mission. There was no one who could look danger in the face and make it cower. They weren't called the avengers for nothing. 

The goggles is what's throwing them off. Never seen without them. Never seen with them off. You'd thinker made her easier to find, possibly. You can't exactly blend in with goggles. Why not take them off ?

They've come across female assailants before. Ones who can track, stalk, kill, sneak in and out. Unseen and unheard. But this one takes the cake. These three pictures are all that she is. Nothing but a ghost. Even James had been caught on camera a few times. 

"Where do we find her?" Deep timbered voice, quiet but commanding, dark. James Barnes. The Soldier.

"You don't..." Fury spoke, age showing. Shoulders hunched. Fingers threaded together. Brows furrowed. 

"Then how do we take her out." Masculine, hard voice. Commanding. Entrancing. Rogers. The Captain. 

"You put a price on her head and wait for her to come to you." Heads turn. Loki. The godling of mischief and lies. His face is drawn tight. Calculating. Thinking. 

He knows the breed. Was. Is . One himself. Outcast. Dangerous. Deadly beyond compare. Senses it just from the grainy pictures. He's got an idea. Wants to help. 

"You can get us to her?" Soft voice. A lilt only detected by the ones from her home country. Bright eyes flashing from red hair the colour of rusted blood. 

"I'll get you to her. But that's all."

\-----

They're not sure how he did it. So they don't question it. He's calls them in a week later. Tells them she's in the monsters glass case. They head to the vault in the hellicarrier they're stationed on. And there she is.

Trussed up in the middle of the glass cage. Arms over head. Wrists cuffed and she's hanging a half inch from the ground. Boots just barely touching the floor. If she stretches her ankle, she could stand on her toes. There's some blood splattered on her hands and wrists. More on her collarbones where the rumpled tank top is stretching from overwear. 

They gather around the cage. Watching her for endless moments. Mostly they think she's knocked out. There's no change in the heart monitors or bio scans. No twitch from a finger or flick on an eyebrow. There's no movement at all but the barely noticeable movement of her chest as she breathes. 

"Didn't your mothers' teach you not to stare?" Her voice is deep, gravelly. Rarely used. Her head tilted to the left and she's staring at them from behind low lights shining. A few strands of dark hair stuck to her cheek. 

Fury turns the lights up, makes sure he can see everything. The door cycles open, both sets. Half the team walk in, God of lies stays behind with Fury. 

She stays quiet. Head tilting as she watches behind thick black goggles. A predator leashed is never safe for those who chain her. She's smirking slightly. A tiny lift in her lips that's barely there. 

Rogers reaches for her goggles and the next moment her thighs are around his neck. Air gone and lungs burning he's struggling to pull her off. She's five times stronger than Natalia. He's released with a gasp as Barnes places a knife at her heart. Tip of the blade pressing into ribs. 

She chuckles softly and goes limp in her chains again. Head tilted back as she smirks. Loki is watching behind the glass, fascinated by one who could move faster than the Soldier. Taking mirth from being trussed up. His brows furrow... She wouldn't be caught u less she waned to be caught. This could be a trap... He wonders??.....

"Take them off." Rogers orders Barnes. Her head tilts away quickly, smirk gone. 

"Turn down the lights." Her voice again. Shivers down spines. 

"Why." 

"Do it. And you can take them off." 

Silence before Rogers nods and the lights are dimmed again to half power. Barnes rips the goggles from her eyes and she's smiling slowly as the men surrounding her scramble back. 

Her eyes are a glowing chaotic mass of silver, purple and pink. Entire galaxies are flowing in her eyes. They're unnatural. They're demonic. They're unsettling on the highest degree. And her smile isn't helping. Cheshire Cat himself could not look so demented and insane in that moment. 

Hawk and Falcon, birds of prey, back up till they hit heavy glass. The soldiers stay close, entranced. The godling of thunder, eyes narrowed, brow furrowed. Watches closely, the eyes seem familiar to him. Like a ghostly mirage from a dream long since dreamt. 

"How the fuck do you get eyes like that?" Barnes whispers first. Stepping closer. Transfixed. 

"You gotta kill a few people." She speaks, smirk never leaving her face. 

"That's all?"

"You gotta kill a lot of people. Then you gotta get sent to the worst prison thinkable." She keeps going. 

"Find a doc that experiments. Pay in twenty packs of menthol kools." Barnes steps too close and her head whips around to stare at him. Freezing the man deeper than any cryo container ever did to him. "Get him to do a shine job in exchange for protection. Then scram and never look back."

"Now no one can sneak up on me." Her eyes flickered brighter almost. Gaze landing on Rogers. Leader. Captain. "Even in the blackest dark from hell."

Rogers steps back. Barnes stays rooted to the spot. Entranced. 

"Who are you?" Barnes asked, voice not hiding that inkling of fear filling into him. He's never encountered anything more terrifying then Zola. He was wrong. 

Her head tilts back and she turns her gaze to Loki outside the cage. Unwavering. Unfaltering. Unblinking. Silver meeting greenest green. They hold the moment for longer than breaths can be held. Loki speaks. He knows who she is now. And he'd deny the tingle of excitement rolling through him. He would soon be free of this planet. Of this team and of these humans. He'd found a Furyan.

There's this tilt in her head, a gleam glowing brighter in her silvery eyes as she stares down the God behind the glass. 

"Riddick."


	2. The Hawk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slightly graphic displays of violence and character death. You've been warned

2 

They leave her then. She won't speak anymore. They know torture won't work on someone like her. So they leave. All filing out of the glass cage. Thick doors cycling closed and tunnel beneath ready for any harsh touch against the glass to release into the air below. 

Hours pass and she's bored. She pulls up on the cuffs, using her upper body strength to pull herself up to her hands. Fingertips pushing the goggles back down onto her eyes and she drops back down slowly. She knows there's a camera pointed at her form every angle available. It doesn't matter to her, she likes the challenge. 

Her senses tell her it's late at night. Prime time for her nature and she itches to be able to move into the shadows. But years of being under His wing, have taught her that stillness is rest until the real fight begins. /Always bide you're time for as long as you can, it'll save your ass/. And it was true. Eagerness gets you nowhere.

She's hot with a small ping in her chest at the thought of him. Hard silvery gaze. Dark gravelly voice commanding her to work harder. Years she held herself perfectly under his shadow. Finally making her own place in the darkness he ruled. She shouldn't have left his side...

There's footsteps approaching, soft but heavy. Male. Light footed. Lithe. Tall. She knows who it is without scent. Glass preventing her form that sense of her surroundings. Doesn't matter now. God of Lies stands before her temporary prison. Green orbs observing like the predator he is. Silver hidden behind black.

"What do you want, Prince." She knows who he is easy enough. She's traveled far and wide. Heard whispers and rumours. The nine realms aren't the only Galaxy out there. 

He smirks and a slight wave of his hand vanishes the charmed cuffs on her wrists. She lands easy in a half crouch and straightens up. Pops neck and back and shoulders with practiced movements as goggled eyes take in the godling.

"I've spelled this room for a short time, we may speak freely." He's opened the doors but they close behind him. Enclosing him inside with her.

"Cut the shit and speak then." She stalks slowly around the cage. Remarking inside her mind the genius of it really. But the godling is wanting her attention. She's paying attention. Knows the prince likes all eyes on him all the time. She's not giving him the satisfaction of her entire attention. She likes to rile them up.

"I know what you seek and I can help you find it." Her steps slow and she's standing in front of Loki. He towers her by a full foot but what he has in magic and tricks she takes up for in brute strength and hard learned skills. 

"You know what I seek, huh prince?" Arms crossed, scars barely visible on pale skin. Riddled on forearms and biceps from battles long since won. Eyebrow raised over black goggles.

"I know how to find what you seek and call help you get there." He smirks down at her. There's this moment between them. Two evils staring each other down. Knowing the other is just as dangerous in their own right. Deadly. Mischievous. A bit insane. He's more powerful by birthright. She earned it on her own. Green meets black of goggles, he knows the silver gaze is locked onto his own though. Feels the demonic gaze upon him and relishes in the feel of someone powerful in front of him. 

"What do you want in exchange?" She knows something is never offered without a price. There are no such things as goodwill and kindness in her world. Or his. There's always a price to be paid. She's crazy enough to not really care what it is. And he's insane enough to offer that which he hasn't found himself. 

"A bit of bloodshed. A few bodies to bury. Heroes falling under your blade." Her eyebrow raises and slim fingertips push up the goggles. Silver gaze hard. 

"And why can't you spill blood on your own?" She was curious. He was a godling. Frost giant. Strongest around compared to many other realms. She knew he could embed a blade as well if not better then she. If he wanted to.

He moves in a circle around her. Stalking ever closer with each step until his chest is pressed solidly against her back. Crowding her but she's not reacting at all like he'd hoped. She doesn't scent of fear or anxiety or even hidden lust. She stays calm and waits for him to continue answering her question. 

"Why sully my hands with their impure blood." He leaned down to brush her hair back to her ear, breath hot against her neck. He loved her natural scent of woman, fire and brimstone and rage. The scent of a Furyon. "When I can watch you soak in it." He whispers low and husky into her neck, tongue flicking out to graze pale skin. 

There's tingling in her lower spine, the kind she only gets from one kind of man. It's not strong enough to worry her. Her loyalty is sound in Him. But He's taught her to survive and get what she needs in order to survive. So she ignores it. Plays into his game and gives the tiniest pressure back into his hips. 

"Gimme some details.." 

\---

"WHAT?!?" Fury's voice carried so loudly that many of the underlings milling about scattered and hid. 

"The cage is empty sir..." Poor kid, hunched shoulders, wide eyes. He's scared shitless. 

"Call in the team, this entire place it on lockdown, NOW!!" 

His eyes land on the cage in front of him. They're scouring the glass prison. The room. The vents. There's no sign of her. No fingerprints, nothing. She's vanished and most think they couldn't have imagined her because there's a set of broken cuffs on the ground. Nothing else. 

They feel watched. Eyes on them from the shadows. Fury isn't subtle with turning the lights up higher. She lives in darkness. So he makes it light. They don't realize she can thrive anywhere. 

Barnes and Widow are going through broom closets. Med bays and empty conference rooms. Air vents and storage rooms. Anywhere they would hide and still nothing. He's starting to realize he's met someone who can hide better then he can. He hates it. 

Hawkeye checks the hangers inside and out. Climbs high into rafters and slinks into corners. There's a thin drop of sweat on the back of his neck, falling into the neck of his leather chest vest. Eyes scanning with the power and intensity of his namesake. Yet... He doesn't see the foot coming for his knee. Barely registers a flash of silver before he's grabbing onto the beam to correct his footing. 

His gaze locks onto a smirking face, dark hair and silver eyes. They stare until he pulls his bow from his back. Snapping it open to make his staff as she stands, bone carved blade in hand.

She crouches, ready to strike, free hand coming up and crooning her fingers in a come on motion. Cocky. Clint smirks back and they lunge at each other. Balancing on iron and steel beams as hits are blocked and blade slashes. 

Minutes pass and Clint is riddled with bleeding knicks and cuts. He's panting and she's barely taking deep breaths. She's quick. Agile. Faster than a speeding bullet. The silver in her eyes is glowing brighter and he's getting this itch along his spine. A bad feeling like when Ultron was running rampant and they couldn't find Nat. 

She moves so quick, like a viper striking. His staff bow leaves his hands and clatters slowly onto the cement floor thirty feet below them. There's this pinch in his chest and he looks down. The handle of the bone blade sticking out from his left ribcage. His hearts stutters painfully. Eyes meet silver and he's falling. 

Bodies hitting the ground always sound different to her. There's the ones who fall in slimy alleyways with a splash and the stink of trash. Others fall in mud with a slurpy, sloppy sound. One falling on stone or rock always crack, sometimes even with a splat. 

She likes the sound. Makes her hungry. Lips licked with pink tongue and she vanishes into the shadows. Slips them around her like a cloak of invisibility. Bone knife gone from the body, blood dripped and rubbed on pants of a uniform that won't ever be worn again. 

Natalia finds the Hawk. It's not a pretty sight and she's losing grip on herself. There's a spray of blood and brain matter on the now stained cement. He fell from high up. Refuses anyone to come near. 

A hole is punched through the wall. Captain and Sargent angrily discussing tactics. One wants her alive to pay off her crimes. The other vehemently saying she needs to be trussed up and shot. They need more firepower. They need to call in Stark. His system could find her in the ship. They're all sitting ducks in a carnival game. With the master shooter taking up the pop gun. 

\----

Spelled rooms appear empty. Video feeds charmed so no one gives them a second glance. Magic comes easily to him as breathing. He watches as she slips into the room. There's some blood splatter on her fingers and some red marks where the staff struck her luckily. But she's otherwise unharmed and calm. In fact she seems sated almost.

She strides in and sets herself down on the plain dining chair. Pulling her blade out and a rag from the endless pockets on her to clean the carved bone. He enjoys watching her work. How she's precise in every movement that comes from her body. Every step and muscle perfectly bunched and released in a delicate dance. 

He'd watched hidden in the shadows from across the enclosed hanger. How she snuck up on the Hawk. Used her frame and flexibility to her advantage. Never missing a step on the high beams. He'd seen the Hawk fight. She was much faster. 

"You did well." A long fingered hand gently settles on her shoulder. Gripping with the amount of force soon to test her resolve and pain tolerance. She didn't flinch but a low growl erupted from her throat. The animal within. A warning to not overstep what she allowed. 

"Who's next?" She ignored his chuckle and the hand removes itself as he crosses his arms. He watches as she sheaths the knife into her pants and her arms lay calmly on the back of her chair and the left arm rest. Not caring she's sprinkled with the still drying blood of someone she didn't know. Beautiful.

"The man of iron will be on board next I believe. Before then the Falcon needs to be dealt with." 

"Take the birds first and then move onto the bugs?" Her smirk is vicious and he matches it tooth for sharp tooth. 

"Exactly."


	3. The Alley Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not sugar coating it. 
> 
> Rape. Not in detail but suggested. You've been warned. 
> 
> Don't want to read? Wait till the next chapter

3

...Six years earlier...

Darkness has many shades. You have the light shadows from the flickering afternoon sunlight. Striking the Suns harsh rays so you may see the rest of the world without being blinded by its brilliance. 

The shades further down the spectrum. The greys. The ones where the sun has set and the world has just enough light left in it for the stumbling people to find their way back to the safety of homes. 

Dark. Where the moon is but a thin sliver in the sky and the most that is visible is the scant few feet in front of you. Tripping and falling over roots or broken cobblestones in places you shouldn't be . Running from something you can't imagine. The dark. Where monsters hide and thrive and wait with hungry maws. 

Then there's pitch black. There are no shades of light. No shadows. No glimmer. No flicker of moonlight. Pitch. Black. Nothingness. Only those born into the darkness can survive there. Those who rule the night. The monsters who thrive there. It's home. 

Where He rules. Where He thrives. Where Riddick is the biggest bad there is. The Big Evil. He wasn't just born into the shadows. He gathers them up. Bends them to his will. Owns them. 

She was nothing more than a grey blot hiding in an alleyway. Bloodied. Raging. Feral as a street cat. Hidden behind a pile of trash and rags. He smelt her blood. Sullied with the scent of male and sweat and fear, mountain laurel. Sweet, poisonous. Deadly potential. Yet weak from starvation and abuse. Familiar.

Found her, pulling back back trash silently. She hissed and scrambled back. No weapon on her but her broken nails and a chipped front tooth. Decided to hell with it and regretted following the scent that was nothing like he was imagining in his mind. Turned around. Stopped. Booted feet silent in the snow and ice littering the cracked stones beneath. Turned back around. Grabbed her up by the scruff of the neck as she clawed and bit and hissed. 

"Easy kitty." His voice scared her. Deep. Masculine. Entirely male and alpha and it set her on edge. Made the rage burning inside flash hotter. Thick solid arms held her tight. And sooner than later her exhaustion shows and she slumps weakly against his chest. A tiny form compared to his massive frame. 

She still yowls out as he starts moving. Cat like as she squirms weakly but her limbs give out and she quiets. Accepting whatever may come, again. A fire brining in amber orbs. 

He takes in her scent again. Young, barely out of her teens. Her purity long gone from the stench of male coming off of her. Blood was still trickling softly from her. Thick and wild. He could see a dark patch from her right bicep, another was forming in between the thighs of her ripped trousers. Barely held together by strings of tied leather. 

He was reminded of another time. Another girl. Couple years back. Younger but the same. Fiery heart and soul. Scared shitless but fighting tooth and nail to survive. Hurt beyond reason and continued abuse. A tightness in his chest. Unconscious tightening of his arms around the small form of skin and bones. Wavy dark hair so similar. Bridge of the nose just slightly crooked to the left. Instead of the right. Broken at least once before. 

Never again. He'd promised himself never again. Only once before in his life had the smell of blood made him want to protect. He'd failed. Leaving the blood behind to protect. It didn't work. This time... This time he wouldn't trust anyone else with protecting what his animal deemed his. 

\----

She healed quick. Fought back on everything. Tried to run a few times. Even got more then twenty feet once. Figured out that she wasn't going anywhere no matter what. Resented him for it the entire first three months. Until she got past his one weakness. The light. And saw what life was without a protector. She didn't know the difference between protection and caging. 

Somehow she had found a torch, hidden it close and shined it towards silver orbs. Blinding him all of five seconds. It was enough for her to slip into the streets and down into a busy crowd. Hiding, using her short young frame against the taller bodies and keeping to the thick crowds. 

She lasted two hours and thirteen minutes, forty two seconds. Cornered outside a filthy pub, broad daylight. Alley. Nobody stopped to help at the first scream to tear through the air. Nor the second. Or third. No one cared. 

He smelled her blood within ten blocks. Thick and wild but weak, waning. She was fading fast. Slipped onto the roofs, ran fast. Two men. Both sporting bloody lips and one with a busted nose. Her body under the heavier one, bruises already forming on pale skin. 

They were downed easy. A swift kick to the knee, broken leg. Another boot to the back of the neck and one goes down. The other was laughable, trying to pull out a curved blade from his belt. Fingers fumbled and his own blade is shoved into his throat, severing the spinal cord and vertebra.

Her trousers are ripped to shreds. Hanging off her hip as she curls up against the brick wall in the late afternoon shadows. Still trembling and ready to attack. To weak to do more than hiss like and alley cat. Amber orbs glance up and she realizes what's happened through the hazy fear running through her. 

"Learned your lesson kitty?" He crouched down in front of her, a few inches away and reaches out slow to wipe a drop of blood from her bared shoulder. Pulling it back and flicking red tongue out to taste. It's hers, wild and feral. So very close to his own but had its own unique taste. 

"Teach me to do that." Her voice is cracked, soft , high pitched from her screams. He ignores the pleasure from the tone, didn't like where his mind was going. Not the time or place. 

He picks her up, wraps her in one of the dead man's coats and vanishes stealthily back onto the rooftops. He'll teach her. Everything he knows this time. No sugar coating it. This time around. She'd survive anything thrown at her. Just like him. 

"What's you're name kitty?" Finally asks her name. Cleans her wounded arm, can smell the stink of man on her thighs and tells her to shower, scrub good. 

"Raksha..."


	4. The Falcon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning character death

4

There's a scar on her skin. Marring the pale flesh. It's jagged and raised. A wicked curved blade sliced through muscle and sinew. Knicked the bone of her right bicep. She nearly bled out from it.

It's stands out in certain lights. Fluorescents, unnatural light. But in the shadows it's invisible, like her. Her hand roams over it fondly. A memory or two latched onto the old wound, coming to her minds eye. A nearly frantic man, hovering over her blurred vision. The feel of something warm and slightly rough gliding over the seeping gash. Pinching from needle and thread to pull the flesh back together. Strong arms wrapping around her and refusing to budge until she regained consciousness a day later. 

It was the first time she'd seen anything other than sarcasm, rage or hunger from him. The lights had been low, barely five percent. Enough for her to see the thin silhouette of the bridge of his nose. Silver gaze shining at her as he rubbed something pungent onto the red angry gash haphazardly sewn together. 

Eyes blinked and locked with hers in the darkness and it felt different. He moved and pressed his forehead to her own, eyes closed as he gently nuzzled her. 

"I thought I'd lost you." Her heart stutters and he can hear it, being so close. The way her blood pumps faster and a heat rises to her cheeks that she can't control. He loves the smell of her. Mountain laurel. Sweet, intoxicating, hiding a danger beneath the scent. Likes how she blushes in his violet vision. 

She wasn't jack. She wasn't Kyra. She was herself. The dark hair and frame were the only similarities. She was her own self. She was Raksha. The demoness. The little alley cat he'd found. Slowly turning into a fierce jungle cat. His jungle cat. 

He was a mess after he'd stitched her up. She was pale and her heartbeat was just barely getting by keeping her alive. He wouldn't admit it. Never would. Be he'd felt scared. That yet again he'd failed to protect. That all he might be good for in this verse was killing and destroying. He can't lose her too. He'd lost too many, the few times he'd tried. 

She wasn't running or scrambling to get away from him as he slid her into a sitting position. Onto his folded legs and lap as he cradled her injured arm gently with one of his own. She almost seemed to purr, a tiny vibration just low enough he could make it out with his enhanced hearing. The other arm lightly stroking her cheek with a rough calloused thumb. They sat there in the dark for a long while. 

Left in their own world as she healed. The planet was desolate, uninhabited by man. The ship of mercs was in shambles after their crash landing. He scavenged the rest of their supplies. Enough to last a couple months here by themselves if need be. They could stay and heal some before another merc ship came looking for the one that had crashed, hopefully. 

He watched over her without reprieve. She didn't complain, only let out a small purr now whenever he touched her. A palm on her shoulder when she tried to move. A twitch as he ran a lock of her dark waves through thick fingers. Warm fingers splayed over the small of her back as he helped guide her where she wanted to go. 

His animal. His beast. They liked the way she reacted to him. Baring her throat the slightest bit to the side whenever his nose buried into her shoulder for a heavy breath of her scent. The way she purred softly as he touched her. He wasn't even trying for the reaction she was giving. But now that it was the norm, he didn't want anything else. 

Her smaller frame against his bulk. The way she would arch her back as his fingertips trailed down her back from her shoulder. Amber eyes shining bright in the dark as he silently tested her, stalking her. It made his heart beat a half second faster. A hungry growl every time she would gasp when he grabbed her up in the darkness. 

Until one day he couldn't stop himself before he realized what he was doing. Changing the bandage on her arm, testing her strength as it healed. She'd pulled the shoulder of her too big tunic down to reveal the wound, and he's lost it. The expanse of creamy skin revealed, the curve of her throat and shoulder as she blinked up at him with this look in her eyes that said she knew exactly what she was doing. The slow build of arousal in the air, thick on his tongue as he took in a deep breath. Making her shudder and the scent to grow to surround them. 

She doesn't say no. Even when he asked her. She never says no. Not to him. She wants it. From the scent of her warmth to the way her pale skin flushed and heated as his hands roamed over her. She mews from his massive weight on top of her. Purrs as his hands grips her tight to him. And hisses like the cat she is as he sinks his teeth into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, marking her. 

No, she'd never say no to him. Why would she? She loves him. In some twisted sort of way when a youngling mixes the strong feelings for her protector with the way her hormonal teenage body reacts to the only male that hasn't hurt her in her entire life. Or... Is it real?

\-----

There's a jagged scar on her bicep. A silver trail of raised flesh that was haphazardly sewn together with needle and thread by large hands. It matches the thin set of marks on the juncture of her left shoulder and throat. Tiny slashes looking suspiciously like a wolf or dog had sunk it's teeth in and tried to rip out muscle. Marking her. 

Loki notices it after a day and a half. Her braid is usually on the left, hanging over and down to her navel in a thick mass. Covering her neck on that side effectively. He sees a glimmer in the shadows. As if there's tiny pinpricks if shining silver on her flesh. A sign of magic. Something he doubts his idiotic oaf of an adoptive brother could see even with a spell. Something he can find easily with his thousand plus years of magic practice. 

Eyes narrowed. He knows the mark of an animal, has seen it many times in his years. On the lesser asgardians, even some of the human women bare the marks of ther lovers. It's old, years maybe. But the magic flows through it strongly. Binding her to Him. An alpha's bite. 

"You submit to him." It wasn't a question, and the slightest falter in her hands as she wraps them in thin strips of linen. It surprised her, good he wants her on edge. 

"I submit to no man." Goggles are pushed up and he's met with that flowing silver gaze. Making his breath almost hitch at the beauty those eyes possess. Hearing her implied words that weren't spoken. 

"I suppose that's true. He is no man, I hear." Smirks as she flexes her palms, reaches for a sidearm and tucks the bone blade into her belt swiftly. Her gaze unblinking back to him. Eerie. Calm. Confident. 

"No, he isn't. He's a monster." With that she melts into the shadows of the corridor with a wicked smile, out of sight of the godling prince and his prying eyes. 

Loki vanishes in a cloud of silvery, golden green smoke. He needed to make appearances or the humans would figure something out. It was easy you know, this acting thing. Fooling the avengers. He needed time to think about what she had said. How he's going to cage her once they're off the planet and how to deal with the original Riddick. Her alpha. The one holding her heartstrings. The one who is five times as dangerous as his protege on this earth. 

The humans were stupid as he walked into the floor they were stationed on. They usually left him alone if he stayed in the back corner of the room. They think she's somehow off the ship now, no reading of her anywhere. An escape pod deployed twelve hours ago, shortly after the death of Hawkeye. Found empty six hours ago. She's going to need to move quickly now. The rest of them will be on edge the moment they find the next body. They'll be bloodthirsty, ready to kill no matter what she could say. 

\-----

She finds her target after only an hour of searching. She has to go slow, watch her steps meticulously. It's easy, years of practice on any terrain. Barefoot and booted, she can walk silently. Guards everywhere. Most smell of worry. A couple with fear. The rest bored and not paying attention. She doesn't bother with them, maybe later. If she's still bored. There he is. 

Dark skin and laugh lines. A kind but stern face and strong arms, chest and legs. Military she could assume without the tips from the Betrayer. He was by himself, in a small work out room on the south side of the ship. He had earbuds in and she could hear the soft static from the loud music playing and she smiled to herself in the dark. Pearly white teeth gleaming from her hiding spot. He was utterly alone and effectively and completely not paying attention to anything but the punching bag in front of him. 

She comes out of her hiding spot as silent as the death she brings. From between stacked towers of matts and pads. His back is turned to her and she decides to play a bit. She's terribly bored you see. These targets aren't putting up much of a fight, yet. She didn't even have to take a deep breath during her last one. 

Moving a hair out of his peripherals she finds the panel for the door and lights, slowly turning them down tick by slow tick until ten minutes later he realizes somethings going on. Turning Sam sees her standing by the now locked door, arms crossed over her chest and shoulders against the wall, hips jutting out in front of her as a smirk pulls her lips up. He stills, breath heavy from the workout, mind going wild as he tries to stay clam. His scent heavy with sweat but spiking with fear he won't show. 

"Riddick?" He asks, walks to the side to pull a towel off a bench and wipe over his neck and arms. It was a trick, to grab the gun he left under the neatly folded towel. It's gone. 

She's got the gun in her right hand, holding it gently as she inspects it, ignoring him a bit. Ignoring the name they've started to call her. The one Loki said two days ago. Watching carefully in peripherals as the Falcon realizes he's unarmed. She likes toying with her prey. "Lookin for this?"

"Rookie mistake, hiding it so easily. And no blade on you? Tsk tsk tsk. I expected more from ex military." She pushes the googles up on her forehead, the lights just low enough for him to see clearly and her to not need the goggles. Her silver gaze striking him stuff for the moment. 

"Can't have your guard up every second." He responds, flinches as she tosses the gun, safety back on, toward him and he catches it, holds it tight in his right hand. Wishes he had his wrist watch on for the panic button on the side. 

"Oh, but you have to be vigilant. What with a big, scary villain on board your plane." She smiles, all teeth and lips , stays in her spot, unmoving. 

Those eyes unnerve him. More than any icy glare from the Winter Soldier or the Black Widow could ever give him. The picture of Clint's bloodied body on the ground flashes into his mind. Sweat beads on the back of his neck. This woman took down Hawkeye in no time. He needs backup, yesterday. 

She picks at her nails, growing bored with his stare. "Nowhere to run Falcon, nowhere to hide, you're nest has a snake lurking in the tree." He's not trying to fight nor is he rushing for help either. He's biding his time. "Poor little birdy, all alone now hmm?" But she knows it's hard for him to do so. All the others are on the other side of the carrier, a ten minute run in either direction through the maze of tunnels and passageways. Really this planet had no concept of setting up an aircraft. 

He knows it. She knows it. He won't accept it. That he's got nowhere to go. He knows she's dangerous if Clint was felled so easily. Knows he's got little chance and a smaller sliver of luck on his side. Here's to good luck and a prayer to God almighty. Feet plant into a defensive stance but she's already moving. 

For one blink she was against the wall across the room, the next as he opened his eyes she was turning on her right heel, left knee pulled tight and into the air before she releases the leg and kicks him square in the jaw. He feels the crack, the agony of a split jaw. Knows that's gonna take weeks to heal. His arms go up, managing to block the next few hits before she flies into a back handspring, lets him breath for a moment. She's toying with him, nothing even breathing deep. 

She hits like lighting and kicks with the force of thunder in her legs. He's not even landing blows anymore, just barely keeping up with blocking her attacks. His gun goes off, thought he'd had a shot to her stomach, it hits the light fixture above them instead, she pushed his arm up. A shower of sparks flies down as the room is enveloped into darkness. The only light coming from the red exit sign above the still locked door. 

"Bad move birdy, now your in my territory." He hears from behind, moves with the voice. Tried to pinpoint her movements. But she's silent, no boots squeaking on the ground or from turning direction. Nothing. 

His scents changing, turning into the bitter sharp taste of fear. A scent she craves, was taught to love and enjoy the taste of it. True fear from a grown male was something to be enjoyed if you had the time. And she had time, about four more minutes if her internal clock was correct, and it usually was. Four more minutes until the Avengers busted down this door. She couldn't play much longer. 

She came to his front, let him see the shining silver orbs before she slammed her palm into his under jaw, heard the crunch of bone and smelled the aroma of fresh blood as his tongue was caught between sets of teeth and bitten in half with the force of her attack. A grown man screaming was a lovely sound to her ears . Enjoys it for fifteen seconds before taking out the bone knife, fingers gripping his shattered jaw as skin split like paper. Jugular sliced clean through. 

The Falcon is dead in seven minutes forty eight seconds. She stays in the room, waiting for the exact moment she wants. Tongue roaming over the side of the blade as she tastes his blood. Purrs out in contentment at the taste of it, making her mind heady even more than the fight did. Something she adopted full heartedly from His training and teachings. 

Two minutes. She can hear the footsteps of at least four people and more coming behind. Hurried steps and frantic shouts as the door is tried and found locked with no answer. She sighs and takes a last kick of her blade cleaning it with only her tongue this time .

The door busts open with a metal fist two seconds later. Emergency lights turned up high, but she's already got her goggles back in place. She's sitting on his body in the middle of the room, leaning back with her hand on the nearly severed neck , other hand flicking the knife between nimble fingers as she waits for just the right moment. 

Now. As they file in and startle at the sight of the blood still flowing, making the puddle under Sam's neck larger and darker with every passing second. Guns are drawn, a shield is falling as the noble Captain states in shock. Metal arm pushing him behind a sturdy body, shouts are made but she smirks. Starts chuckling until she laughing manically, scarily in their faces. Insane. 

Then she's vanishing, a trick of the the trickster himself. A simple illusion at the last moment . All illusion. She's vanished in the spray of bullets fired at her body like smoke. There's no trace left but the dead body still warm and the silent tears of the America's greatest hero. They can still hear the echo of her laughter in their minds moments after she's gone.


	5. The Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changed the rating to explicite because dark themes ahead. Don't wanna read wait till next chapter.

5

Four years earlier

"Let's play a game." She says, flicking the bone blade from the holster on her thigh. Watching laughingly as the group of mercs surrounds her. Pretty baby blue eyes, deceiving with a look of glee and excitement while her lips curl into a hungry feral smirk. 

They've been after her for hours now. Caught a lucky glimpse of her in the small port and had been chasing her since. She's not worried, not really, not yet. She's taken on more by herself a few times before. She grew tired of leading them away from the small but populated port city. She'd seen enough there to know more bloodshed wouldn't make it easier for her to get to the skiff and high tail it out of there without being noticed. 

"Oh, we're gonna play a game little girl. But you won't like it." One sneered, fat, overweight, mangy lice filled hair and crooked yellow teeth. He looked like a fat ugly badger rat she'd seen in a sewer a year back. Ugly, slow, stupid. Disgusting. 

"We'll see." She's moving already, two have their guns drawn. Got to take out those first. 

Kick to the wrist. Bones snap, guns dropped. Spin on her heel in a crouch and kick it out of reach. A punch to an elbow, dislocated arm, another gun thrown far away. Gunless. But they have knives. She can handle that. Her hand is moving swiftly, she's evading more than hitting and it angers her. This is her game. Something she was taught relentlessly for months and months. 

Three down. They're not dead, knocked out and bleeding fatally but not dead, yet. Three to go. Surrounding her panting form. She wasted too much energy running and now it's cost her. Because all that time running away from the city cost her valuable daylight. And look there, the sun is setting and she's got maybe minutes before they'll be in darkness. Shit.

"You're not worth the payday for being alive little girl. Well use you and pull in the real money maker." She wasn't paying attention, one snuck up on her and punched her wrist holding the blade she cherished. Causing a cry of pain to escape her lips and arms to bind her elbows behind her back. 

She kicks out but a pair of booted feet spread her legs wide so she'll either fall and wrench her shoulders apart or push up and press into the mercs thighs. She refuses to do either and stays still. Uses the moment to regain energy she's lost but the snap of heavy wire cuffs on her wrists splashes cold ice done her spine. 

She starts struggling fruitlessly. They way they have her placed makes it impossible to really get out of the hold without dislocating her joints to do it. Something she can't do without causing immense pain to herself. Something he can do. 

"Easy now, don't hurt yourself or we won't have any fun." There's a swift punch to her stomach that she wasn't prepared for and it caused blood and bile to well up in her mouth. She spits it out on the others shoes and pants legs. Earning her a swift slap to the cheek and a growl to erupt from her throat, inhuman and feral. It only cause the mercs a moments pause before they're snapping restraints on her ankles so she can't do more than hobble as she's dragged toward the city. 

She waits, for an opening, an escape, anything. There's nothing and she's growing angrier by the second because she's failed. Again. Gotten caught and failed to kill all who followed. Her heart squeezes and she's angry, so damn angry at herself. 

They're nearly back to the outskirts of the port. Streetlights starting to flicker on with the coming of night and the city life waking. There's no one around them. The three mercs herding a chained girl through the alleys and backroads, staying out of sight as much as possible. Out of the light. 

She feels Him. The moment his eyes land on her form she's glancing upwards, to the left and catches a tiny little glint of silver in a flash before it's gone and her lips tweak into a smirk. His presence near her calms her. Makes her relax a bit into the bonds. Deliberately slowing her pace step by step between this light and the next. Keeping to the darkness as much as possible. 

The one behind is gone with a clattering of a knife on the ground. His body ripped out of veiw and thrown back down from a higher height, his head twisted backwards. She's starting to giggle softly under her breath. The sound of the body smacking down on the alley stones has her heart beating faster and a hunger gnawing in the pit of her belly. 

They start shouting, grab her up in their hands and half drag her further toward the city lights just out of reach. One grabs her throat, the badger rat. Fingers thick and long and squeezing off her air as he lifts her up into the air, slamming her down onto the alley ground with a heavy smack. Back of her head throbbing with every beat of her heart. 

She coughs up a wad of blood and spit, laughs softly as it stains her teeth a red color and she opens her eyes as they stare at her worriedly. "You shouldn't have done that." Because the next moment she's looking up and backwards into the barely lit form of Him. Standing over her just out of the light, like a dark demon come to rescue her.

They stumble back, reaching for weapons that have been lifted off their person and discarded blocks back. She's laughing louder now as Riddick stands over her, shaved head tilted to the side as he watches the mercs scramble to think of a plan. Silver gaze chilling their spines because he's yet to move from the shadows that conceal most of his body. His head tilts back to the manic girl on the ground and his lips twitch the tiniest bit downwards. 

"Look at the trouble you find yourself in kitty. Do I need to crate you again?" There's a threat low in those gravely voiced words, hiding under the endearing name he calls her. He'll make good on it later, she knows. Because he is not pleased in how he's found her, not one bit. 

He's gone from the shadows in the blink of an eye. A knife to a jugular, second mans down. Gurgling and prying at his throat to staunch the bleeding. It's no use, he's falling as he takes a final bubbly breath, tries to at least. 

Last one left, backing himself against a brick and stone wall. Hands shaking into fists in front of him. Eyes darting around to catch a full glimpse of the mad man after him. Riddick steps out of the shadows, past the girl sitting up and spitting out another wad of blood from her lips. Watching with this gleeful expression and the merc knows, he shouldn't have tried this contract. 

A hand is on his throat, exactly like how he'd lifted up the girl minutes before but with a much stronger grip. He was lifted easily inches from the ground, all the strain on his neck as he claws for breath. Silver eyes narrowing as Riddick's other hand makes a gimme motion before thumbing towards the girl, now standing, with the cuffs on her small wrists outstretched in front of her. 

Fumbling for breath, turning blue and gasping to fill lungs that can't expand. The merc finally grabs the keys and tosses them to the ground. His throat is released only slightly and he takes a deep breath of air, head swimming. 

Riddick speaks, starling the merc with his deep primal voice, shaking him to his bones with the grip on the stupid mercs neck. "People should know better than to touch what's mine." His eyes are narrowed, fierce, ragefull. 

There's small hands slipping up Riddick's chest to pat at his collarbone and the other to slink up and curl over his free shoulder. A smirk on pretty pink lips as Riddick's free arm slips around her slim, curvy waist. Pressing her tight against his side and hip as he snarls in the mercs face. Nothing but rage and possession in the animal like sounds coming from the deadly male. 

"I...I..." The merc couldn't think of anything to say. He was terrified. Absolutely terrified. The scent bitter and sharp on the air and the girl was breathing it in with an open mouthed inhale. Groaning at the scent mixed with the possessive hold on her frame against Riddick's. 

"You what? Thought you could take her from me? Steal her and use her as bait?" He snarled into the poor mans face, voice raising and turning more and more snarl then actual words anymore. 

A knife into the mercs throat came from the girl's left hand, pressing into skin to kiss the flesh into splitting just ever so slightly. A groan on her lips as the scent of fresh blood mixes with fear, overlaying Riddick's heavy alpha and making her head swim and the hunger in her belly grow and grow into a snarling beast inside of her. 

"I'm no ones bait and no man's prize." She whispers to the merc as the knife goes deeper, just barely kept from the cord in his thick neck. The arm around her tightens her to Riddick's hip and she exhales silently , pressing against him with her own hips. 

Riddick scented the arousal minutes ago, it's growing stronger and stronger and making his beast rattle against steel bars and snap at heavy chains. Soon, he told himself, soon as we get back to the skiff and into orbit...

His eyes meet the mercs once more. An easy going smile on his lips contrasting with the strength in his hand on the guys neck. "Night night..." Riddick twists his wrist and there's a snap of a neck and the smack of a body hitting the ground. 

Her backs against the wall, feet from the dead body and Riddick is snarling low in his throat at her. Her hands pinned to the side of her head as he roughly presses her into the jagged stone building. 

"The fuck were you thinking Raksha?!" He yells in that special way of his, voice not really raising but the power rising in the words instead. Showing the alpha beast he is. 

"I.." Her hands are slammed back into the wall and she hisses at the pain emitting from it.

"Do not even attempt at making an excuse! You're on lockdown Kitty. Lock. Down." Her eyes widen because she knows exactly what that means and somewhere deep down she knows she deserves but dammit... 

She's dropped from the wall but before she gets her footing he's got her thrown over his shoulder and he's climbing up the wall to the roof. The skiff is hidden in the port. And ready to fly in simple moments and flicked gauges. Already refueled and restocked they could leave in a hurry. And that's what they do. 

The blackness surrounds the windowed cockpit on the small ship. It's not much really. It's fast and able to get from point a to b. It's common so it's easier to fall under the radar. There's not a lot of space. A small bedroom, a water closet with shower and toilet and sink. A tiny kitchen and storage room. Enough for them. 

But there's a larger storage room just in the back of the ship. One with a crate against the wall with a sophisticated locking system and a deep blood red pillow pad on the floor. It's kept dark in that one, one point five percent of light and that's it. She can't see anything if she tried, it's just too dark. 

But He can. He can see everything. The flush on her cheeks and neck. The way her eyes dart about uselessly into the shadows. He can smell anticipation on her, the slight over laying scent of those mercs hands on her, the agitation at herself, even the arousal still heavy on her. But no fear. No, she's never feared him. 

She isn't prey, she's predator. She's her own little animal, a hissing alley cat with razor claws and keen fangs. She's no match for his own monster. The thing he is, its too strong and fury filled to have an equal. But she comes damn close to it. No one else could ever come near her beast. Not even Kyra had this amount of ferocious instincts and feline nature. 

Right now she's growing twitchy. The longer he stalks her, studies her in the pitch dark the more she's liable to jump or startle at a sudden approach or touch. Good. He wants her jumpy. Wants her waiting. Not expecting his next move. 

He circles again. Slowing herding her with his heavy presence and growls. Each one making her take a step back, a step closer to something she desperately wants and doesn't at the same moment. Something He wants of her, and so, will inevitably get from her one way or another. 

Her knees and thighs hit the sturdy crate, making her still and her fingers to grip at the edge of the solid metal bars and wire. Her heartbeat is speeding up into a frantic ticking in his ears and the sound, coupled with her ever growing scent of want makes him snarl into her neck. A heavy grip on her thick mass of dark hair. She's already baring her throat, but it's not quite enough this time. 

His beast wants loyalty, trust, obedience. She broke two of those this night. She didn't trust his judgement and so went behind his back and left the den.. Err skiff. Ship. Whatever. And she disobeyed by giving chase and letting those fuckers catch her like they had. After he told her if she ever got caught, to hide and he would find her, not lure them a way like an idiot. 

"Kitty..." His voice is nothing but a low never ending growl as her fingers tighten and she bares her neck as far as she can. "Not gonna work this time around baby." He taps her left hip and tugs at the laces of her breeches with the other. She knows what to do to appease his beast in this situation. Her hands don't shake and he smiles at how much concentration that takes for her in that moment. The laces are undone and the once tight breeches are slipping silently down her legs to pool at the floor. 

Next comes the soft deep purple tunic and it joins the breeches on the floor. She doesn't cover up. Hasn't had the urge to since their first time on the lonely planet of sands and winds and the scent of her blood surrounding them. Even though she feels utterly bare and nearly naked in front of him she never tries to cover herself form his gaze. Her body is his. She gives it freely to him. 

Another tap to her bared hip and she's letting out a tiny whine. A soft barely there keen that even his ears are having trouble hearing. But he does hear it and his palm slides gently over her hip. The other nesting in a fist in her hair and tilting her bared throat to his mouth that's just wanting to sink his teeth into her pale flesh. 

"Not getting out of it this time Kitten, you've fucked up and it's time to be punished.." With that she's gasping as his hand on her hip is pinching, his fingers on her hipbone and she's crumpling from the pain of it. The hand in her hair in a blinding flash of pain as he yanks her neck back and sinks his teeth into the juncture on her neck and shoulder. Marking her over the exact spot he did the first time and making her legs go utterly limp under her. 

Before she can open her eyes, the pain to become a lingering ache in her neck and the bruises are wanting to form on her hip. There's a clang of heavy metal and the click of multiple locks snapping shut and her eyes open wide. She's in a heap on the thin pillow and cramped into the crate made for a jackal dog. Her eyes wide as the light turn up just enough for her to see Riddick's face , crouched down to be eye level with her inside the crate. 

"Why are you in there Kitty." He asks and she's tight lipped, eyes casting downwards but shooting back to his silver orbs when she's reprimanded with a heavy snarl. Her shoulders hunching under that gaze. 

She doesn't want to answer but the words flow from her mouth. "Because I need to learn trust and if I'm in here I.."

"Have to trust me implicitly, that I will take care of you, completely and in every way." He finishes for her and she hangs her head, dark hair falling over her face in a curtain. 

His hand reaches into the bars and tips her chin up wth no resistance from her, silver gaze meeting baby blue the color of innocence and beauty. Something that doesn't fit her face or her animal. "Do you trust me?"

"Yeah." The fingers on her chin tighten in warning. 

"Do you trust me Raksha." 

"Yes, I trust you." She doesn't look away from those eyes because the fingers tighten a tiny bit more .

"Then why did you leave today? You could have been killed. Or worse." He didn't need to explain the worse part, she's experienced it a time or two before he saved her from a freezing death in a trash heap. And once when she ran away from him. 

She didn't have an answer. She just hates waiting for him to come back. Hated waiting and staring at nothing for hours as he resupplied and she was bored. 

"That's what I thought." His fingers leave her chin, thumb brushing over her bottom lip lightly before he stands. "You don't trust me enough. So you're gonna stay in there until you figure it out. I'm never gonna do anything, Anything, that would put you at risk." 

Then he's gone. The door to the room is clicked shut and the low lights are turned off completely. Leaving her in utter darkness for the rest of her stay here. She won't see daylight until he thinks she's learned her lesson. 

This is how he teaches her trust. He's a monster. A sadist no. But a monster yes, and he owns that name as if it was created for him. He keeps her there in a metal crate meant for a vicious animal in the pitch black for days or weeks and a few times, months. She has to depend solely on him for everything. Trusting that he'll take care of her no matter what and to trust he will always come through for her. 

There was no other way in his mind. She refused to listen to commands or teachings. She wouldn't pull back when he said. She wouldn't mind when he ordered her to stay still. It finally grew to where he pushed her into the crate that was left in the ship they bought. Not realizing what he's really done and that it had actually locked her in, and they had no codes for the locks. She was stuck in there until he could figure it what to do. 

She'd calmed down right quick and within a couple hours she was apologizing and listening to simple instructions easily. An idea sprung up and he used it the next time she acted out. And each time the duration was longer until all he had to do was threaten the crate and she would straighten up. He hadn't had to use it for nearly a half year now. But looks like she's forgotten. 

He didn't use to make her strip before getting in either. That hadn't started until the third or fourth time. When seeing her in the cage had ignited something in him, something primal and hungry and he couldn't take it anymore. She had been in there two days and he ripped her out, bent her over the same crate and plowed into her like a farmer on fresh soil. Ever since then he's had her stripped and bare whenever she needed a lesson. Because depriving her of something as simple as a rut made her much more pliable to him. She was a cat after all, a vengeful, lustfull, cat that acted like she was in heat by the third day of her crating. 

To say he didn't enjoy this wouldn't be true. In fact he almost anticipated the next time she would display her mistrust. Because there she would go in that crate, he would force a celibacy on himself until she would cry and beg for him and it would be some of the most intense rutting he'd ever had with her. It was carnal and feral and she would scream and he would growl and they would mix into this animal like frenzy for hours and hours until she would pass out from sheer exhaustion. He'd slip her back into the crate and he'd go to bed and wait for the scream of frustration when she woke still caged and naked and now scenting heavily of him and his musk. Making her go crazy with want, again. 

The thing is. He didn't need to make her want him. She did it on her own. He merely encouraged it full heartedly. Because if she was going to be with him for the ever looming foreseeable future, she had to be strong, deadly, holding no remorse and above all. With him, in every way possible. So he encouraged her to need him, to want him, to do everything in her power to stay by his side. Anything else was weakness. And she wouldn't be his if he had anything to say about it.


	6. The Pull

6 

She likes to watch. To prey. To be silent in the shadows and observe. He taught her that very well. A lesson learned quickly and one that was and never had been lost. So she watches them scramble. Watches this man of iron, as the trickster God had told, as he tries and fails and tries again to track her on this machine that he talks to. Strange people these Avengers are that's for certain. 

This Iron Man, this stark. He's erratic in his movements. Loses focus on everything but one thing, doesn't watch his surroundings. Relies far too much on his tech and not on his instincts. Instincts are more dependable than anything man could create. She smirks to herself as she slips away, the labs too crowded but she knows when to go after the Stark now.

Smiles because this one might actually give some fight. These targets were fun to play with but she was growing restless. A cat growing bored of her new toys easily. She wants to leave. Can't until she helps the Trickster fulfill his revenge on this team that had wronged him. She really didn't care, as long as he kept up his end of the deal. But too long under His wing, too long on her own, and too many stories of being wronged had taught Raksha to never put her trust in anything but Him. 

So she stalks the corridors that are left empty. Keeps to the shadows that hold her close and welcome her like they do for Him. The corridors are hardly used, ones that are for storage and supplies. Her booted feet silent on the clean floor, dim emergency lighting along the bottom of the walls the only thing illuminating the darkness. Her goggles still on, dark against light skin. The heavily tinted glass reflecting just the slightest bit of light from the lamps along the floor. 

Her feet come to a stop and she's motionless. Feels a gaze on her form and tilts her head to the left just slightly. Dark hair falling from her braid in waves in front of the goggles on her face. She knows she's being watched. The thin hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention and a hiss wants to escape her lips. Knows someone had enough training and skill to get even this close to her and she likes it. The challenge it presents. Knows who it could be, who it is. 

"I wondered when you'd find me.. Soldier." And just like that he melts from shadows, an eerie gleam from his metal arm shining in the dim light. Her head tilts to the side, watching his hulking frame emerge closely. 

His posture is relaxed, almost, dare she say it? Cocky? Large hands on thick muscled hips as he watches her right back. Her covered eyes travel over him slowly. Taking on the way his shirt stretches over his broad chest and arms in a familiar way to her eyes. Fitted cargo pants cling to thick thighs that travel down to get tucked into military boots laced tight to calves. 

Animal poured from him. She could feel it. Feels her own inner beast start up an inner purr and she's half tempted to make reality. Just to see if he really had an animal inside that heavily muscled body of his. This pull, this primal urge to take. She's only felt this instinctual pull with one man her entire life, Riddick. 

And its strange really. Because instead of revulsion. Instead of guilt at this feeling of hunger pitting in her belly for want of another male. She feels, enthralled. Excited almost. Hungry. This soldier, this caged animal. Because he is caged, holding back his own beast for some reason or another. He... called to her on a level only Riddick could, and she didn't want to kill him. 

The thought blindsided her for just a moment before a frown smeared across her lips making the soldiers biceps twitch, ready to draw a blade. Nervous with any change in demeanor from her. 

She didn't want to kill him. Didn't want his blood on her hands and it shocked her to her core. Before Riddick, before being made into the beast she was. She still wanted to spill anyone's blood who got in her way. Why stop with that feeling now. 

"Not gonna try and ghost me?" His voice was deep, yet soft in the silence surrounding them. Icy clouds flowing lazily in his eyes, ready to pull up a raging storm in a blink. She sees the real him in those eyes, the one he's holding back so tightly. 

She pushes her goggles up, keeping her eyes closed until they're where she wants them, just atop her eyebrows. Waits a half beat to open silver gleaming orbs lazily into his stormy blues. And she likes how her eyes make his entire body pause, even goes to bet that his heart skips a beat as he meets her gaze. A smile graces her lips. A real one.

"No soldier. I'm not ghosting you." She gives him a once over again, making sure he sees her eyes flicking over his form. "Not you." Makes certain he sees the hunger in the silver. 

He raise a dark eyebrow. Can't deny the pull he feels towards her but does it anyways because it's wrong and she's a monster ..../just like us/.... His inner voice whispers in his his ear and he mentally shakes it off. He's not the monster anymore. The voice says otherwise, it always has.

"And why's that Riddick?" He asks, arms crossing over broad chest as she does the same. 

She ignores the question, decides to test his follow through on an interrogation. Wants to see his reaction when he finds out the truth. That she's merely the protege. The near perfect product of the original. 

"Why does everyone keep calling me that?" Smiles and leans her left shoulder against the wall beside her. Watches as his brow furrows just slightly and his head cocks to the right. She's enjoying this. Playing. Toying with their misinformation. Riling up his animal as hers purrs inside. 

"Who are you?" Quick, this soldier is. She likes it, he's smart.

"Ah that's the million buck question isn't it?" She pushes off the wall, starts walking a slow semi circle around him to the opposite side of the hall. "You all, you Avengers, you... Government muscle." She keeps walking around, circling him. Knows he's not really intimidated but he's cautious of her.

"You think you've caught Riddick. Ha!" Her bark of laughter making his head whip to the right to glare down at her. Ohhhh he was a tall one. 

"What are you talking about?" He growled low at her, arms unfolding from his chest to loosely clench large fists itching to grab the blades at his hips.

"This earth truly is the most backwoods place in the verse. No wonder not even the Necromongers wanted to take it over. It's not worth the trouble." She sneered a bit because it was true. 

Not even the Necro's wanted this place. The people were underdeveloped. Their crops were failing. They cared too much about image then their own atmosphere. They were going to die out quickly if they didn't wise up. But earth was full of neanderthals, imbeciles and crackpots. Nothing on this planet was worth an effort for takeover. 

It's why Loki tried it himself. He knows what the verse has to offer. Knew this could be an easy target for his first world. With the right strategy and strong enough warriors. But Loki messed up. He could have easily taken over earth. But he failed in the one thing that matters most when commanding an army. Faith and loyalty and trust. 

His army didn't feel loyal to him. The creatures were soulless and too primitive for faith. And trust? There was none. Not for the trickster God. But most important of all? His army didn't respect him. And you need that utter respect from the men under your command to make anything worth while. 

"Explain, now." He was growing antsy, the way she was talking. The words spilling from her lips. Her eyes laughing at something he didn't understand yet. He hated it.

"Okay soldier boy, I'll tell you." She leans in close to him, her head just clearing his collarbone but she knows her height makes no difference. Lips close to his neck so he can hear her clearly as she whispers her next words. 

"I'm not Riddick." She smiles at his sharp intake of breath he can't stop. His shock making him immobile in front of her and she steps out of reach just in time to see the flash of metal try to grab at her. 

She's gone in the flash of an eye. Climbing through an air duct and closing the vent before he's even rounded the corner. Only to find the hall empty and his fist to slam into the wall, denting aluminum paneling with an angry snarl. He turns and heads the other way, heading straight for Roger's room. 

\----

The line keeps ringing, ringing, ringing. No answer. A voice mail and Tony's gasping breaths are cursing the god he had been begging to only seconds ago. 

"You've reached Pepper Potts, sorry I can't answer your call. Please leave a name and I'll get back to you."

"I.... Lu...ve...ghuu..." The call ends automatically. The AI's system programmed to shut down and utterly delete itself if he ever died. There was nothing for anyone to find of his genius but the small pieces of armor left scattered around his bloody remains. The armor that only he could control.

Rogers stares at the sight. Blind fury and rage clouding his judgement and making him edgy as he watched Natasha gently close Tony's fear filled dead eyes. Staring towards the still dripping words left spelled on the glass pane that was his touch screen computer system. 

:Gettin bored, gimme a challenge:


	7. Chapter 7

7 

Bodies scurried back and forth. Dust raising at every new block of rubble disturbed. Bandanas and masks worn to keep somewhat breathable air in lungs as wreckage was moved and broken. 

Wanda watched from her spot on a higher rock pile. Watched as dozens of people looked for anything. Belongings and bodies were the only things left, crushed beneath rubble and debris. 

This was what she could do to help. Go back and lend her powers for something good. Using her devil's gifts to move larger pieces. Her mind waves for finding those unconscious in the wreckage, though only a few had been found out of hundreds still missing. This was all she could do. 

Help the country and its people rebuild after what the avengers had done. What SHE had done. Lied to and manipulated but Hydra for years of abuse and experimentation only to be hurdled into the lap of a free thinking insane robot hell bent on destroying her world. If that wasn't the worst, she's lost her only family, her brother her savior, while protecting something that shouldn't have even been created. 

The years of honing her abilities. The fear the masses had glinting in their eyes as she walked past. The myriad of voices and visions and auras flowing into her mind. Brushing past mental walls like pushing aside a blade of wilted grass. Her mind was not easy. And even manual labor can only help push aside others thoughts for so long. She wants to scream and shout and lash out at any and all around her then instantly regrets such a notion. Her powers would destroy hundreds if she let loose. 

That's why there was a dozen men hidden around her at all times. Protection, Fury had said to her. But it was not her protection the men watched for. It was the protection of the civilians surrounding her on a daily basis. Ready to strike her down with a lone bullet to the skull if she so much as twitched a finger to move an object. No, no one dared protect Wanda anymore. 

 

Her feet are tired and sore. Her back aching and arms feeling like sacks of sand tied haphazardly to her shoulders. She's exhausted and knows it, shows it. Eyes sunken in, loss of weight and hair lifeless and limp at her nape. Another long day come and gone and it looks as if nothing has changed. Because it hasn't. 

She's still a threat. A monster. A name on a list that means she should be watched and preyed apon because of what was forced into her. A princess locked in her room, no matter how sparse or luxurious, is still a woman trapped. And she longed to just be, free.

Fuzzy socks. Carpeted floor. Cool clothes and hot tea was just was she needed. It was no cure, but it helped ease her thoughts and mind and above all else. The rage hidden inside her fragile mind. The lights low, shadows dancing as the curtains twitched with a light breeze. She really shouldn't have left the windows open. 

There was silence. As much as could be attained when staying in a nice hotel mere miles from the destruction site. Filled to the brim with families and workers trying to relocate or give help. This was the only time of the night where her mind could ease. Less screaming thoughts. Softer emotions and easier visions were her silence. 

Until it wasn't silent anymore. There was a stirring in the air, a twitch of her muscles and instinctual movement. A rising of the hair upon the back of her neck. A feeling of...being preyed. An animal stalked outside, fluid and strong. Waiting, watching. For her. 

"I always wondered what they seemed to be hiding. Locked in those files on computers , folders labeled "Scarlett Witch"." A shadow, melted from the others and Wanda's breath caught at the sleek woman watching from across the hotel suite. 

"Do they keep you safe? Or is this your tower, princess?" Wanda couldn't read into her mind. The woman whose covered gaze was straight on her own. Barely processing words, fight or flight instinct threatening to make her move. 

"Who are you? How.."

"Who am I. How did I get in here. What do I want. Blah blah,blah, blah blah." The woman stalked closer, sat in the opposite chair and steepled her fingers in front of her lips. Elbows on the table and head tilted just so slightly to the right. Watching, stalking, preying. 

Wanda could read the woman's thoughts. Nothing but a massive snarling beast inside the woman's mind and Wanda backed off. A strike of true fear running down her spine as they locked gazes. Wanda couldn't see the woman's eyes, feared that if she could she would bolt in terror. And this woman didn't feel or look the type to not give chase. 

"My name is no concern until we talk for a minute alright?" The woman have the smallest smirk and the beast snarling inside Wanda's head receded into a lounging purr made more for a dragon than the mental image of a panther she was receiving. It eased the panic and Wanda felt her spine relax slightly. 

"Better?" With a slight nod the woman went on. "I'm going to ask you something and I want the truth, I smell lies a hundred kilometers away and I need honesty." Another nod from the younger girl , confusion marring her facial features. 

"Do you want to be free, Wanda?" Shocked Wanda reeled back, not even noticing she's been leaning more and more over to get closer to the woman across the table. Shocked from the question so honestly asked of her. And to be honest with herself, Wanda needed to make that decision. But she wasn't going to answer just like that. Person comes from the darkness and promises her dreams. Mother's tell children about the Devils minions, his knights, his demonic maidens. 

"What do you mean by free?" Answering a question of her own, hoping to buy some time to think of what to do. The beast inside the woman's aura gave a lifted head, the purring stopped and it was weirdly silent throughout the hotel. Nothing, no one was thinking or moving. Time had stopped and Wanda really thought this woman was a hells angel come to take her away to pay for her sins. 

The stranger leaned back in the elegant chair, looking at home but apart. The concoction was throwing the young girl off herself. Strength and poise and danger radiated from this woman. And never before had she found or felt a beast as strong as this or as sentient in her own thoughts. The woman tapped her fingers gently over the table watching Wanda. 

"Freedom. Free of inhibitions and rules and Guards. And free of guilt that isn't yours to be shouldered with." This was a trick. A demon sent to invade her mind and make her go insane. The woman before her, the animal waiting to pounce. Scared the hell out of Wanda. 

"I want to help you little witch. I want you to be free." Another voice and Wanda spun in her chair in fright, falling from it. Her backside hitting the floor as a figure marched from the shadows in a glowing dust of gold and green. Horned helmet shining in the midnight light and Wanda froze. Eyes wide at the Demi God before her. Fear was nothing compared to the fright at who was reaching out a hand to her, offering to help her up from the floor. 

She couldn't take that hand and when Loki smirked and stood tall again, he gave the startled a tiny wink and looked back at Wanda. "Smart little witch you are my dear. You not take the offered hand without hearing the deal." Wanda stood on her own, petrified of the two people within her vicinity, that weren't supposed to know of her existence. 

"Now, I'm running short on time and while this has been phenomenal fun watching you squirm under the gaze of the Cat. I need an answer dear girl." Cat, that made sense to Wanda, the feline beast started up an almost, comforting purr in her mind and it helped ease her racing thoughts. 

"What's the price I must pay and what am I getting in return." Wanda wasn't stupid, by far. But she was done. Tired of being feared when all she wanted to do was help. Tired of being told how and when and who to use her powers on. Tired of being locked in her room or forced to smile and wave at people who only fear her strength and abilities. Tired of living in a world without her brother.

"Ah straight to the point. I like her." Loki smiles at the stranger before gazing back at Wanda's much shorter frame before him. "You wish to free witch. No more towers and dragons guarding the exits. No more guards and guns pointed for every wrong move. Freedom. Free of this entire world. And all I ask in return, is your loyalty." 

"I want my brother back." The demand left her lips before she could truly comprehend it but it had already been said and in turn had already been laid in stone. She desperately needed her brother back in her life, back by her side. 

The womans head twitched to the left, a sign she was thinking heavily but Wanda's powers could only come near and the beast inside would snap and bite and threaten to hit her in ways no one on this earth could heal. So she turned to Loki, not even attempting for all she felt of the person before her was a vast shadow and the inkling feeling of a cat about to catch the mouse. 

"That is certainly a hard pressed demand little witch. With very few options on how to make it come to fruition. I cannot promise what I cannot give."

"But I can." The woman was at Wanda left in a blink of an eye, too fast and silent for the young witch to fathom. But hearing those words caused a chain reaction in Wanda and she stepped expectantly to the woman. 

Loki have her a look of distaste knowing what the furyan offered. Knowing that if she never found her furyan alpha the boy would never come to life. Wouldn't be brought back from hell. But the little witch didn't know that, didn't know his plans for the female furyan nor for the the witch herself or the soldier waiting in the wings for a glance at Raksha. 

"I can promise his soul returned to the living." The woman offered softly, voice low with a purring lily that only Wanda could hear in her mind. And Wanda had made her choice. Her hand clasping into Loki's larger palm and her cry of pain as runes started burning into her flesh and upwards to her shoulder, vanishing beneath her olive skin as fast as they appeared on her flesh. A mark of her oath. A frost giant's magic.

"A deal's a deal." And they had gone with a flurry of wind and a silvery green and gold sparkling of dust swirling into nothingness in Wanda's sight. 

What had she done...

\---

"You are trying my patience my dear." Loki spoke as he stared across the room at Raksha. The woman under his usually chilling gaze was lazily sharpening her bone blade, goggles set atop her forehead and silvery eyes calm. 

"And how did I do that?" She always refrained from calling him by name, because is she called him by a name, any name, she was giving him more control them she wanted him to have over her. She wouldn't do it if she could help it. This was a fine line she was walking. A thin wire above a fathomless drop and she with no sight or balance to help. 

"You promised something which the witch agreed too. Instead of letting her make the true deal with me." Loki was pissed but not overly so that he raised his voice or lost his cool. Merely narrowing his eyes. He knew what Riddick could accomplish. How the furyan could pull back a soul from hell. 

"You were losing her. I gave her an offer she couldn't refuse. One I can give her." Raksha's silver gaze rose up to meet Loki's own emerald look. Not challenging, simply stating fact. 

"Regardless you spoke more than was discussed." 

"I got her to agree and now she waits for us to grab her when we leave." Raksha stood, sheathing her blade and walked toward a table littered with weapons she'd never seen before, asgardian and frost giant made. 

"Very well." He watched as she tied on a harness to his shoulders, carrying two wickedly curved blades on her back. The metallic silver blue color shining in the low lights. "You face the last of them today."

Another set of blades on her person, strapped to her hips and the backs of her thighs. None of her weapons were guns, she didn't like the scent of heavy gunpowder or the way you had to reload constantly in heavy fire. Blades were the weapon of choice. She looked deadly, formidable, fear inducing. And Loki enjoyed it, every moment of being in her presence. 

"Any more info I should know? The Captain, the Widow and the Soldier are all that's left." She stood fully, tightening her braid, stuffing the mass of hair into her dark shirt so it wouldn't get in the way. 

"The Captain is unstable. He will be reckless, rage filled, make mistakes. Do not underestimate his strength. The man is far stronger than you can imagine." Loki spoke, fingers gently rapping along the handled blades at her back. 

"And the Spider?" Raksha ignored the way his closeness made her hackles raise. The way the fine hairs at the back of her neck rose and made warning signals flash throughout her body. Instincts rising high at the threat of a strong male coming too close to her. 

When this had all started she had given in to Loki's small advances. Giving just enough to appease him so she could get what she wanted. But now, after being so close to the soldier for only a few moments. She repulsed being on the same planet as this Demi God of lies and mischief. Her every instinct and thought telling her to get away from the male. Back to the soldier because her alpha was no where near her. The second best in times of stress of danger is the find the beta.

And she had claimed the soldier without a single touch. In her animal brain she knew he was hers. And when she found Riddick, they'd make a formidable pair. The Furyan and the Soldier. Loki's voice brought her back to the present. Now was the time to focus. 

"She's crafty, skills that too many have failed to gain. Quick and agile. Take her out first if you can. If not I suggest making her unable to do much. Say... Breaking her spine should do it nicely." Loki finished with a grinning mouth and flicker of laughter in his emerald eyes.

"And the soldier?" Her silver met green and gazes locked for several moments. 

"You wish to take him?"

"You got the witch. I want the soldier." Her voice steady and unwavering as the murderer and the god faced off in a silent and still argument. 

"I will take care of the metal soldier. But if you truly want him with you. I suggest you kill the Captain. He's the key into the mind and will release the animal within."

"Done." Raksha held her hand out for Loki to shake, her smaller roughened fingers slipping into the calloused palm of his own. 

The burning shocked Raksha more then she could have thought. Runes drawing into her skin like a fiery live brand slithering upwards. A snake of lave under flesh. It didn't stop at her wrist, only kept going until it stretched over her collarbones and to the other shoulder, clear down to the opposite wrist. She was released with a gasp and she couldn't catch her fall in her surprise. The runes didn't disappear like Wanda's had. No they stayed clear on her skin, greenish silver lines crossing over themselves on the barely raised skin. Like a branding tattoo over her person. 

"What did you do ?!" Her snarl made Loki smirk and a small chuckle come from parted lips. Hands now clasped behind his back as he backed away from the hissing cat in front of him. 

"Nothing to be concerned of My dear. Not yet anyways." He vanished in a flash of green smoke as a blade cuts through it. Sinking into the opposite wall with a thunk. Raksha panting breaths the only thing in the room as she stared at her marked skin. Her right hand flew to her neck, a sigh of relieve washing over her as her mark still stood out amongst the new lines crossing over it. 

Rage. Rage welled up so fast and so heavy that she snarled out a war howl into the room. Surely someone had to hear that and she hoped they would. She was desperate to kill something, anything, everything. She'd been marked by a man she detested. Marked as if he owned her and she would not stand by and let him get away with this. No one marked her like that. 

The flashing lights of emergency protocols strung through the halls. She didn't care if she was seen now. If her eyes were normal they would have been rimmed red with anger but only the silvery oceans of wrath filled her gaze. Grunts and agents fled at the sight of her. She didn't even flicker her gaze when the lights were turned up, merely reached up and pulled the goggles down, kept her pace steady and quick as she headed for the main command deck on their hellicarrier. 

She was ready for this fight. What she wasn't ready for, was the fight to get herself back from a Demi God and get back to the only man she loved. Riddick.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!! Pop on down and gimme a kudos or a review!


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